Jessica Hart's Blog, page 3

Staples and my inner secretary

Rather to my own surprise, my Amazing Scene Plotting Plan appears to be working.  Although I don’t really have much of a sense of how I’m going to write each scene yet, making myself stop and consider exactly what the characters are wearing or how they feel has been much more useful than I imagined.  True I have to keep going back and rewriting my list of scenes drawn up from the outline, but I’m telling myself that’s the point.  I’m sketching out the details of one scene and an idea for the next pops up.  Already I am a long way from my original plan.
I have made so much progress that I have a rapidly growing pile of pages of completed notes for each scene.  Clearly, this meant I needed a special ring binder to put them in, and a trip to Staples was justified – hurrah! 
In fact, today’s haul was relatively restrained: as well as that file for the scene notes, I came out with a goose-shit green coloured ring binder (for mythical research notes, I thought), two packs of pens, colour-coded punch pockets (not sure what I can possibly code, but still), padded envelopes for posting out books (no book out until November, but they won’t go off), two ink cartridges (on special offer, rude not to) and a pack of different coloured plastic document envelopes which I am sure will be terrifically useful, and the fact that I already have one for my passport is neither here nor there.
I love stationery stores.  Invariably I go in needing one thing, and emerge laden with inessentials like this.  Stripy paper clips.  Fluorescent files.  Multi-coloured file pockets.  Dinky clear plastic boxes.  Bulk supplies of sticky tape. Funky metal in-trays.  Fat marker pens.  Highlighters!  I even found myself contemplating a Dora the Explorer lunch box today.
When I’m in Staples, my inner secretary blossoms and I imagine a perfectly organised office, where everything is carefully labelled and colour-coded.  I get quite sulky when I realise that I really have no use for a staple gun or one of those machines that makes labels, and therefore cannot justify either as an expense against tax.  I was actually a very efficient secretary and I sometimes wonder if I should have carried on as an administrator.  Ironically, at home my office is a tip.  Every time I come to the end of a project, I vow to reorganise my study, but somehow the task is too daunting and I never get beyond clearing my desk, feat enough in itself. 
For now I am ignoring the mess around me and will spend a happy few minutes punching holes in my scene notes and ordering them in their smart new file.  A top time-wasting exercise, but it feels like work.  Of course, the time will come when the file is full, and then what will I do?  Oh, yes, then I’ll have to start writing …

Scene notes: My amazing new plan

I’ve spent the week clearing my decks, and once the last few jobs are done today, I will be able to devote myself – not before time – to the next time slip. 
So far I’ve done a 25k SFD of the story in the past and 10k for the present, neither of them finished.  This is not great progress, especially given I’m going away (again!) in a couple of weeks.  Two weeks isn’t long enough to  build up any momentum and in any case I’m not really ready to write anything other than a Shitty Second Draft, which I don’t think will gain me much.
But I have a plan!  I have a sense of scenes in the book, and for each I’m going to fill out a form like this one (which I've now realised you can't see very well).  Whenever I’m writing a story set in the past I find myself having to stop and scratch my head and think: What would they have had for breakfast?  Would there have been pews in the church at that time?  When didDrake sail around the world?  What remedies would they have used for cramps?  Would the death of a vagrant have been investigated, and if so, how? How exactly did Margaret Clitherow die? Were there horse chestnut trees in the 16th century? And so on.
I might have a PhD but I know none of this stuff - I can’t have my characters disposing of their rubbish for the entire book, sadly - so I have to stop and look it up.  It’s the same for the present.  No sooner do you start writing than you realise how much you just don’t know. 
My amazing new plan is to do all the important research in advance.  (I realise that this isn’t in fact new for anyone else, and that a detailed storyboard is probably par for the course for any serious writer, but it’s new for me, OK?) I’m going to write careful notes for each scene, being clear about what the point of the scene is, and what changes as a result of it.  Then if I also know exactly what the characters are feeling/doing/wearing/talking about, when I come to write it, the words will come easily, right? (Right?)
If you can't read the image, my boxes have the following prompts: * Location* Season/time (so I don't have to stop and wonder what the light is like etc)* Who else is in the scene?* What are they doing?  * What are they wearing? * Point of scene/Change (vital: every scene has to change something, and it's easy to get carried away writing a lovely scene where your characters just continue being themselves and nothing really happens)* How does she feel at beginning of scene?* How does she feel at the end? (change again)* Research (exactly what I need to find out about)* Other notes (because I'm bound to have forgotten something important)
I have a vision of a page for every scene, beautifully written out and filed in a ring binder, perhaps with little pictures attached to remind me how to fasten a sleeve to a bodice perhaps.  And of course, when I have the two stories plotted out, I can check that the pacing is right, and that I have hit all the right points on the story arc.  Oh, it will be a thing of beauty!  A plotter’s paradise!  Why have I waited so long to realise the joy of proper plotting?
The truth is I’ve always been more of a “pantser” than a plotter, and I suspect I will quickly run out of steam when I realise I don’t know what happens in a scene, but I’m going to have a go.  I don’t feel like writing at the moment, and this seems like a good way to use these two weeks to focus my research where I really need it, as opposed to getting carried away down fascinating but irrelevant paths.  Or that’s the theory, anyway.  

Rome, home

I am back in the land of speedy broadband, after more than 1000 miles of motorways over the last few days.  Right now, I would be glad never to get in the car again, but it was worth it to get to Rome.
I went with my cousin, Jenny, to celebrate, rather belatedly, our 50th birthdays, and what a great time we had! We only had one full day and a morning, so we stuck to Ancient Rome, and barely scratched the surface of everything there is to see.  

We’d arranged a private tour of the Colosseum, the Palatine Hill and the Forum, which was absolutely fantastic.  No queuing, special entry to the underground and top level of the Colosseum  and a wonderful and entertaining guide in Vito.   Now I want to spend the rest of my life studying Ancient Rome! 

I’d have to write a novel to tell you everything we saw and learnt last weekend, but here’s what I’ll remember most.  More photos on my Facebook page.
The sheer jaw-dropping scale of the Roman remains.  And they were everywhere.  Columns and carvings that anywhere else would merit a museum of their own were just lying by the side of the road. 







Italian ice cream.  I’m not normally an ice cream girl, but this was something special.






A free concert (Bach and Handel) in this church around the corner from our hotel.
Walking on paving stones from the time of Augustus.
Shabby buildings with closed shutters, with incredibly smart shops tucked away on the ground floor.


Prosecco in the sunshine.








Wandering around the Palazzo Altemps with the sound of a Sunday morning service drifting over the courtyard. 






Jenny telling me about an academic article on classical scrotums.  Apparently, it was believed that the left testicle was the source of daughters, the right provided sons, so to indicate virility, classical statues often show the right testicle as bigger.  This meant that we spent a lot of time staring at the genitals on the (wonderful) statues in the Palazzo, puzzled by the fact that there it was the lefttesticle that seemed to be bigger on most statues.  It might have looked as if two middle-aged women had an unhealthy interest in male genitalia, but we were motivated purely by scholarly research, honest.
 
The carvings on Trajan’s Column.










Umbrella pines

Gusty sigh .... 

Ah well, it is good to be home too.  I learnt while I was in Scotland that Book 59, the one with Frith and George that caused me so much trouble, has gone through, so that was a big relief.  I only had a few revisions in the end, which says much for the power of self editing.  Now I am contemplating a horribly long ‘to do’ list, on which ‘next time slip’ doesn’t appear until the third page, but after three weeks away, it’s probably time I knuckled down to some work.  

Holiday reading

I have decided that the problem is not the internet connection but my laptop which is so-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o slo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-w that checking email or doing anything else online is excruciating.  It’s amazing how life changes when you’re not spending your time Googling or Facebooking or Twittering or emailing.  For a start there are hours more in the day, and I am feeling very detached from ‘real life’.  I have been trying to write 2k words a day, but it’s more important to go out for a walk and enjoy the hills and the water, and rediscover the fact that there are few surer ways to restore a sense of proportion than standing on a sunny beach throwing sticks into the sea for a dog.    
I’m staying in the holiday house that’s been in the family for over 30 years, and like all good holiday homes, it has a store of old books, the kind you would scorn to read at any other time, but are somehow just what you want when you’re away.  Over the years, a motley assortment has been left here over the years.  We seem to have a lot of truly dreadful thrillers from the Seventies, some dated blockbusters, tattered historical, war stories, and the odd literary novel which has clearly been brought for effect and then discarded in favour of easier reading.  Oh, and a set of Jessica Harts, of course!
I like to work my way through the almost complete collection of Agatha Christies when I’m here.  It was Murder on the Orient Express last night.  There’s something incredibly comforting about them.  I don’t care that I’ve read them many times and know who the murderer is.  I don’t mind the fact that the plots are dated and contrived and turn on silly coincidences.  An Agatha Christie is a master class in PTQ: you pick one up, intending only to flick through a page or two for old time’s sake, and suddenly you’re turning the next page and then the next, and before you know where you are, you’re absorbed in the story and refusing to do anything else until you’ve finished it. 
I wouldn’t take an Agatha Christie away on holiday with me, and I wouldn’t read one at home, but here in Scotland, they’re just what I want.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to The Mysterious Affair at Styles ...

Bad connections

 Screel from the Muckle I have decamped to Scotland for a couple of weeks, but the internet connection is very ropey so had better keep this brief.  Sending a simple email is an exercise in acute frustration, as the screen keeps freezing, or is overlaid with the tool bar so that you can’t see what’s underneath, or sometimes the message disappears altogether until I am ready to take a hammer to my laptop. 



I am SO missing my lovely fast Mac.  Don’t even want to think what it’s going to be like uploading this to the blog, but will give it a go.  Just block your ears to the language.  Aaarrghh will be the least of it.
 Roxy On the plus side, the whole process is so fraught, I am only checking my email twice a day which is very good for me.  Likewise, Facebook and Twitter are out, and in theory I have a lot more time to write.  I am here to keep my mother company while my father, coming up for 89 and almost totally deaf, has taken himself off on a cruise around the Black Sea.  So it’s a whole new routine, which involves a lot of little meals and a lot of dog walking.  No hardship when the dog is as sweet-natured as Roxy, and the walks are all through scenery like this.  The sun has even been shining ... so far! 

Bio culling

This is the first of my two days left at home in April, so I am in full list-ticking mode, otherwise known as hyperventilating.  My main project today, apart from the vital business of getting my hair cut and my legs waxed, is to supply all the missing content for my new website.  The design is agreed, but now I have to scan in 45 covers, provide urls just in case anyone feels like buying a book, and rewrite my biography.
I tackled this the other day. When I was looking at other authors' bios, I came across Anne Gracie's, and really liked seeing her old pictures and reading about the experiences that had made her a writer, so in shamelessly copycat mode I did the same and had a lovely time going through all my old photo albums. Unfortunately, I wasn't as restrained as Anne and got a bit carried away.  When I sent it to the designer, he very tactfully suggested it might be "a bit too long maybe"  (subtext: for God's sake, woman, who's going to be interested in this?) so I must cull a good 1000 words today. 
It does seem a shame to waste all that scanning, though, so while I was scratching my head about what to blog about in my brief stop at home, I thought I would shove up some of the pictures that won't make it onto the website.  Look away now if you have a low boredom threshold!


My first memories are of Africa, which is perhaps why I ended up with incurably itchy feet.  This is me simpering with my father at Qolora Mouth in South Africa in 1964. 











My first trip to Australia (spot the clue) in 1968, aged 9, en route to PNG. The start of an enduring love affair with the country, even though it was winter, and I didn't make it to the outback until much later.












And here I am back on that side of the world in my gap year, 1977, with my cousin Jenny.  We spent four months in New Zealand, including several weeks cooking on a sheep station so remote you had to fly in, or get on a horse and ride across a river.  We did get pretty sick of mutton by the end of our time there but it was such fun.  I remember laughing the whole time. In fact, I'm wondering now why I've never written a book set in NZ ... maybe it's just too long ago. Sigh.




Ah, well.  That's enough nostalgia.  I need to get on. Picture me scan, scan, scanning for the rest of the day.  I'm off to Wales on Saturday, home on Sunday, and Scotland on Monday for a couple of weeks, but I will be taking my laptop and endeavouring to do some work while I'm there, so I'll try and keep the blog updated at the same time.   

Stocking up the Kindle

Taking a deep breath as we plunge into April … I won't bore you with my complicated itinerary, but between Yorkshire, Wiltshire, Wales, Bristol, South West Scotland, Edinburgh and Rome I will only be spending five days at home this month.
Perfect holiday readingMy priority before I go away is to make sure that I have a whole stack of books on my Kindle so that I have something to read at all times.  I spent a lot of yesterday clicking aimlessly around Amazon, but I just wasn't inspired. Scrolling down a screen just isn't the same as picking a book up in a bookshop and turning it over to read the blurb (I know, I know, I'm sounding middle-aged again).  I'm one of those weird people that likes to read the last page to get a feel for the book and to make sure I get a happy ending, and you can't do that on Amazon.
Thrillers/romantic suspense are my preferred holiday reading, but I appear to have read everything by my favourite 'travelling' authors (Lee Child, Harlan Coben, Nora Roberts, P.J. Tracy, Tess Gerritsen …) Why can't they write quicker?? (Not Nora, of course – no one could write more than she does!) I've tried a number of other thriller writers that get rave reviews – people like Michael Connelly, Karin Slaughter and Mark Billingham – but have never quite clicked with them in the same way. 
In the end I bought books by Lisa Gardner and J.A. Kerley, both new to me, and a Linda Howard set in the Amazon which sounds fun, so we'll see.  It's so wonderful when you find an author and can work your way through their back list, isn't it?  Somebody recently recommended Laura Kinsale here, and I bought and enjoyed Lessons in French very much, so I'm looking forward to reading more of her books when I'm home and in the mood for historical romance. 
In the meantime, all recommendations for romantic suspense very welcome.  I've got a lot of travelling to do in April, and I'm going to need a lot more than three books to keep me going!

Revisions (and pineapples)

So, it was 5.30 on Friday evening, and I'd done my 2000 words for the day. I was ahead of my schedule.  Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I was looking forward to the weekend.  I was just getting up to make myself a cup of tea when I heard the tell-tale 'ping' of an email arriving in my inbox … and there was my editor's response to the book I sent in so long ago I'd almost forgotten about it. 
This was the kind of book referred to my fellow romance writers as a 'pineapple'.  As in what it feels like to give birth to one. I love this expression which perfectly expresses the agony of dragging a story kicking and screaming onto the page.  After which I had to rewrite the entire thing in four days flat.  So when I saw the subject line of the email my heart sank. 
I was braced for "Well, it was a good try but perhaps it's time you gave up", but in the event the suggested revisions weren't too onerous.  So successfully had I wiped the entire sorry story from my mind that when I first read my editor's comments I couldn't remember who half the characters she referred to were, which was a bit disturbing.
So my first task was to re-read the entire manuscript and remind myself about all the incidents that had left me blank.  It's always good to come back to a story after a complete break as invariably it's better than you remember.  I don't think this is going to be one of my favourite books – although I thought exactly the same about Ordinary Girl in a Tiara (another massive pineapple) which has done far better than those rare lovely books that write themselves.  So perhaps there's a lesson there!
Anyway, the main change was making the reasons for Frith's need for control more explicit.  I felt a bit as if this meant laying it on with a trowel, but I'm pragmatic about revisions and do what I'm asked to do.  If my editor doesn't get it, then I guess the readers won't either, even if it does seem obvious to me. 
She also commented that I'd thrown away the declaration scene where George tells Frith he loves her, and when I read it again, this was so true I winced.  Talk about being in a hurry to get to the end!  So I beefed that up, too, and made one or two other changes. 
It made for a couple of afternoons' work, but after getting it last thing on Friday night, I was able to return it first thing Monday morning -  AND I got to enjoy the weekend too, so it could have been a lot worse.  Fingers crossed that's number 59 done and dusted.
Now, back to time slip #2 …

Learn to write: courses, cakes and a little book

OK, enough with the weather … anyone would think we never saw the sun in this country the way we're all carrying on about our sunshine (me most of all).  
It's time to get back to the serious business of writing, and to tell you about some advice on offer if you're interested in learning how to tackle a romance or are looking to improve your technique.  There should be something here for everyone!


* * * * *
First up, I'm offering a CRASH COURSE IN WRITING ROMANCE at the University of York on Saturday 23rd June 2012.  This is a one-day workshop specifically designed for those who have always thought they'd like to try writing a romance, but haven't really known where to start.
The course will focus on how to invest a story with the emotional tension that is key to the success of any romance. We'll be looking at how to create an engaging and sympathetic heroine and an irresistible hero, as well as a plot that will keep the readers turning the pages to a satisfying end. Working in groups, we will have created the outline of a story together by the end of the day. This is the social side of writing, and the most fun, so come prepared to participate!
For more details contact the Centre for Lifelong Learning at the University of York. York is a lovely city to visit, so even if you're not local, why not think about making a weekend of it? You'll find all the information you need here. 
* * * * * 
Have you already completed a book?  Then you might be interested in one of the fabulous Julie Cohen's ADVANCED NOVEL WRITING courses held in Reading.
Julie is running two courses, one on 26th May (one place left) and another on 13th October, which is filling up quickly.  Courses are limited to 11 participants, who ideally would have completed at least one novel, and are closely tailored to the participants' needs; Julie usually asks them questions in advance and structure the day around what they need to know.  You can get a flavour of the course at a brief video here.  
The courses tend to cover things like structure, conflict, pacing, characterisation and revision techniques, as well as writing a synopsis and submitting your work, but they also take in discussions about the writing business, about planning your time, and about what it's like once you're published. They're highly interactive. "We have formal exercises," Julie says, "but a lot of the learning also takes place in informal discussions. For me, the best compliment is that people keep on recommending me to their friends, and coming back again and again to review different aspects of their writing."
And as if that wasn't incentive enough, Julie offers a discount if you bring homemade cake! 
For more information get in touch with Julie at julie@julie-cohen.com or see her website, http://www.julie-cohen.com/events





Switching genres has meant I've had to start again on the writing learning curve in lots of ways, and I'm tempted by a course like Julie's myself.  Sometimes it can be really helpful to go back to basics and look at how to write with fresh eyes.
* * * * *
For those of you who can't make it to York or Reading, I can highly recommend Liz Fielding's Little Book of Writing Romance.  Written in Liz's characteristically easy style, it is illustrated with intriguing examples from her own books, every one of which makes you want to read on past the excerpt to the story itself.  PTQ at its best.  This is a beautifully clear guide to what you really need to know when you're writing a romance.  
The Little Book of Writing Romance is aimed at beginners, but I have to say I found myself sucked into it as soon as I started to read, and wished I'd looked at it when I was struggling with my 59th romance recently.  It's not too late, though.  I'm expecting revisions any day now, and I suspect I'll be very glad that Liz will be on hand, as it were, to set me back on the right track ...
Liz Fielding's Little Book of Writing Romance is available to download from Amazon now.

How not to write a book

View from favourite seat in Cafe NeroMonday morning, and I was so full of resolutions for this week: healthy eating (a priority after seeing recent photos … a major aaarrrgghh there), strict writing timetable, admin under control etc. etc.  I'm sure you know how it goes. 
But it is such a beautiful day, things went astray right from the start.  I was lured out to coffee in town, where I remembered the photos and regretfully eschewed my usual pain au chocolat.  


It is too warm for winter boots, but my toe nails are unpolished at the moment (a job for this afternoon) so I wore my favourite black pumps, forgetting that they are so old and sloppy now they are impossible to walk in, in spite of heel grips, sole inserts and so on.  This obviously meant that I had to stop on the way back to buy new shoes.  There is a limit to how exciting black pumps can be, but I think these are rather sweet with their discreet bow, and, even better,  they sure are comfy. 
Blue skies in York, March 2012Then I had to go and buy salad for all the healthy eating I'm going to be doing, and – oh, look! – the morning has gone.  But I HAVE started writing, and indeed, am ahead of my timetable, which is something of a relief.  I have turned my back on the siren call of the index cards, and am just writing a rough draft, which is what I should have been doing all along.  I'm not worrying about anything except getting the words on the page for now and am aiming for a 50,000 draft at first, with half for the story in the present and half in the past.  
I've started in the past, and if I don't try and think about how much there is still to be done, I can even enjoy seeing how the story is starting to emerge.  That is if I can ignore the sunshine outside my window which is just begging to be walked in …  This is how books don't get written.